Thirty? Little younger than himself then, not that it's surprising. Dean wanders over to the bar, ducking down to root through and surprised by the selection in stock. He hasn't seen this good of liquor in a long time. Normally when he hits up the store he gets the cheapest he can find and while it's certainly not even close to the best, it does it's job. Shifting around the bottles, he finds a bottle of Jim Beam and pulls it forward, looking it over before picking it up and standing. Turning, he grabs a glass, blows it out out of habit and peels off the seal, then twists the cap open to pour himself a drink.

Grabbing the glass and taking a drink, he picks up the bottle as well and walks over to where James now is at the table. He sets the bottle down on the edge and takes a seat in one of the other chairs, kicking his feet up on the edge of the desk as he allows himself to relax. "Of Sam's?" He doesn't think he does. He has a few pictures in his wallet but... hmm. Sitting up a little he pulls out his wallet and flits through the pictures tucked away in the back.

A grin lights up his face as he spots a picture in the back, one of when they were younger; Dean roughly seventeen and Sam thirteen, standing with their dad and for once all three looked mildly happy. He ran his thumb over it a few times before handing it over, though he pulled his hand back for a moment. "Do not ruin it," the man said dangerously before finally holding it out. "What are you going to do with it, anyway?"